


The Present

by williamastankova



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Acts of Kindness, Arthur Doesn't Know How To Express Love, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Gwen Helps Merlin Understand, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Merlin's pov, Pining Arthur, Presents, Relationship Advice, Surprise Kissing, tm - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 22:04:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19981249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/williamastankova/pseuds/williamastankova
Summary: Arthur's suddenly being very nice to Merlin, presenting him with gifts and such, and the warlock just can't wrap his head around it.





	The Present

Arthur was, to put it lightly, a strange man. Gallant, sure. Handsome, in most people's eyes. Rich, unquestionably. However, these positive quirks were all balanced out by the mystery that went undiscovered in the very core of the prince's soul. He was often ominous, illusive in the worst way, and more times than he could count Merlin had been left to fend for himself until the very last moment, when Arthur would jump in as a hero. Even so, he could not say he despised or even disliked the man for this; this was just part of his character.

With this being said, it can now be made abundantly clear that Merlin, whilst accepting of Arthur's flaws, his pompous nature and reluctancy to let anybody get too close to knowing the real him, could still be shocked by how the man behaved. Some days, he would repeatedly call Merlin a fool, smack him around the head a few times and order him about like he really was nothing but a lowly servant. Other days, on days like these, Arthur would be inexplicably... kind.

"What's this?"

Merlin didn't mean to sound ungrateful as he stared down at the present which Arthur had thrust into his hands only seconds prior, though he came off that way. The prince looked borderline sheepish as he made to retreat, clearly wanting nothing more than to leave Merlin alone with the gift, alone to delve into the wonderously generous action that was Arthur giving him an actual present, though Merlin's words stopped him.

He looked almost pained as he turned back around, having already swiveled on his heel, ready to make a break for it. His blue eyes were nowhere to be seen, concealed behind his closed lids. He opened his mouth once, letting it hang for a moment as he scrambled for words, then he finally stilled and appeared to settle his roaring mind.

"It's a gift," he answered, obviously trying to sound nonchalant.

"A gift?" Merlin replied rather incredulously, to the prince's dismay. He had clearly wanted a conspicuous exchange, as opposed to alerting the entire kingdom as Merlin was now doing, "For me?"

"No, a gift for the Lady Morgana, I merely want you to deliver it," Arthur paused for a moment, holding Merlin's eye with his own, gaze piercing the warlock who seemed not to catch on. Huffing, the prince continued, sounding more irked now, "Of course it's for you!"

"Oh!" Merlin couldn't help but sound like a void, his voice echoing, rebounding off of his hollow insides, "Right. And why did you get me a present?"

"Just open it," Arthur demanded, sounding cynical, though he remained to watch the man do just that. Merlin cast his gaze up quickly from the present to Arthur, finding him watching closely as the warlock's fingers worked to undo the basic wrapping of the present.

Once the thin layer of material was gone, Merlin was left holding a folded piece of fabric. He quirked a brow at the prince but did not speak; he feared that one more question might send Arthur over the edge, spiraling into insanity. Because Merlin decidedly did not want to feel his wrath, he remained quiet and investigated the item on his own.

He eventually had it the right way (or so he thought, though he couldn't really be sure) and held it so it hung neatly. Even still, it took him a full moment before he registered what it was. When he did so, however, his mouth fell open and he looked over at Arthur, who was staring at him, a smug expression painting his features.

"Oh, you shouldn't have," he shook his head, "My own cloak?"

"That's right," Arthur sounded calm, cool and collected, as though he hadn't been the one ready to sprint away just moments before. Even so, there was the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, "Try it on. I hope it fits you."

Merlin obeyed, roughly bringing the cloak around his shoulders. He had no mirror to work with, couldn't see how it looked on him nor how dishevelled and out of place it looked, yet when he looked up at Arthur once more and saw a glint in his eye, he took that as meaning he looked, at least, decent.

"How does it look?" He asked Arthur, who seemed not to hear him for a moment. The prince looked on at the green cloak, marvelled at how it cascaded over Merlin's shoulders, made them look strong and able, not slender and womanly as they usually did. Merlin liked to believe the forest green did, in fact, bring out his eyes, and this was what stunned the prince.

"Good," Arthur said after what seemed like the world's longest pause, "It looks good."

It was unlike the prince to speak so little. Normally Arthur was articulate, and he loved to show it. He would usually take any opportunity to talk and talk, and he would almost always abuse this power as Merlin had no right to tell him to shut his mouth, no matter how much he wanted to. Now, though, there's an empty feeling in the air: Arthur isn't speaking, and Merlin doesn't know how to fill the silence.

The two of them spend a few mum moments standing together, Merlin looking at Arthur's eyes but never being given the same respect, as the blond man seemed far too focused on the gift draped over Merlin's shoulders than anything else. The warlock shuffled awkwardly on his feet, trying to make it obvious that, for once, he wanted Arthur to speak, but even so the prince took talking in his own time.

"Right," he finally said, breaking the vacuum that had formed around them in two, "You'd better get moving, then. Messages to deliver, swords to fetch."

Merlin nodded, still feeling a little out of it. Snapping back to reality, he slipped from his shoulders (to Arthur's dismay, whose proud stance visibly shrunk at the action) and got back to work, folding the cloak back up and tucking it somewhere for safe keeping.

He'd have to make a point of wearing that.

**

He knocks tentatively. It's not something Arthur's outright told him to do, but he does it anyway. He never knows a) whether it's Arthur in the prince's room, or somebody else and b) what mood Arthur is in, if it is him. Merlin finds it safest to appear submissive at first, at least as he enters, to prevent alerting anybody.

"Arthur?" He calls at an average tone - not too low, not frightened, but perfectly average. "You left this after training. I don't know what you want me to do with it, I've never seen it before so I figured I'd-"

He continues speaking as he enters the room, but stops when he finds Arthur sat in his chair staring up at him. It's a peculiar sight to say the least and downright terrifying at worst. He briefly considers that Arthur has finally lost his mind, but the longer he looks in the man's eyes he can see that he looks exactly normal, as he should.

"Keep it," Arthur's gaze drops to the wrapped up sword in Merlin's hand, "It's yours."

"Mine?" Merlin scoffs, "It's not mine. I don't fight, Arthur. Maybe I should check with the other knights, if it's not yours? Because they might have-"

"It's not theirs, Merlin," Arthur dismissed his suggestion, instead insisting, "It's yours. I had it custom-made for you; I was going to give it to you today, but I forgot."

Merlin could barely manage a breathy 'oh' before he nodded, murmuring a confused thank you to Arthur and continuing about his chores. He fixed Arthur's meal, tidied his room, and waited on the prince until the moment his eyes shut, ready for sleep, in a continually dazed mindset. In fact, he couldn't say for certain that he'd had a single cohesive thought since Arthur told him to keep the sword, and when he began to make his way back to his own bed for the night, he still hadn't quite processed that order.

Even so, even though Merlin knew all too well he'd never use the sword as it deserved, he found it a quaint little place in his room, where it glimmered pridefully as though it had been used to fight the greatest of foes. It might never strike down a single man or woman, but Merlin had to admit it did look rather good on his wall.

**

The third time Arthur presents him with something, completely unprovoked, he begins to become suspicious. They'd seemed to have bypassed the second gift, even though whenever the sword caught Merlin's eye he did have a slight fluttering sensation in his stomach. Arthur hadn't brought it up, and Merlin didn't particularly want to talk about it, so they were at a mutual standstill - checkmate.

That is, until he's stood in Arthur's chambers, helping the prince clear out some of his things. He was surprised when Arthur told him he wanted to help out with Merlin's chores that day and, though he was hardly good at deciding which things to keep and which to throw away, the warlock had to appreciate the man's effort.

It was hardly a _gift_ , Merlin tried in vain to convince himself later. In fact, the only reason Arthur handed the stupid ring to him was because he didn't want it, though there was the doubtful part of his mind that told him the prince had played up his nonchalance too much, and that it seemed as though he wanted Merlin to think he didn't want it, when in reality it was especially for him - it had been all along.

"Here," Arthur had said to him, not sparing him more than a second's glance as he thrust the small, golden ring into Merlin's hands. Vaguely, he explained, "Take that, I don't want it anymore."

Merlin had looked at him, watched the back of his head intently, trying to read his mind and find out exactly what game Arthur was playing with him. Unfortunately, this didn't work, leaving Merlin's best guess as, well, a guess. He could draw the conclusion that Arthur really was just dumping his old rubbish onto Merlin's shoulders, or he could assume that there was something more.

Instead, he opted for the third option, which entailed that he come to no conclusion at all, and to wait for a second, much more well informed opinion. He sought Gwen at the earliest opportunity, when he knew they were both free, at least for a short while, to ask her.

"Gwen!" he approached her, speaking just a little too enthusiastically, walking just a little too quickly. She jumped when she turned around and saw him, though visibly relaxed when she registered who it was that was coming towards her.

"Merlin," she said, sighing, "You scared the life out of me."

"Sorry," he apologised sheepishly, then decided quickly there was no time to waste. "I need to ask you something. About Arthur."

He added that last part reluctantly, and lowered his voice as he did so. He only elaborated in this way to peak Gwen's interest, which it seemed he had done successfully because she turned around fully and wore the greatest, brightest smile on her face that he had ever seen on anybody.

"Go on," she implored.

"It's about this," he said, holding up the ring, not daring to wear it through fear it was possessed or otherwise tainted with black magic. "Arthur gave it to me, and I have no idea what to do with it."

"Well, Merlin, I didn't think I'd have to explain this, but usually you wear them on your finger."

"No, not _literally_ , Gwen, I know how you wear a ring," he said, sounding more frantic now, continuing, "I mean, what is it? Why's he being so nice all of a sudden? You've met him, you know how much of a prat he is. Why would he ever do this? Why would he do any of it?"

"Well," Gwen made a face, like she'd tumbled the idea around her head a little and agreed with Merlin's judgement, "I suppose he could be trying to get something from you, though I have no idea what."

Merlin shook his head, thinking this unlikely to be the case, and posed the rhetorical question of, "Doesn't he have everything already?"

This, however, seemed to trigger something in Gwen's mind - a revelation of sorts - and her mouth fell open, forming a clear 'o' shape. Communicating in facial expressions only, Merlin quirked an eyebrow at her, as though telling her he wanted to know what she was thinking, immediately, especially if she thought it could be of any use to his cause.

"Oh, I don't know, Merlin," she suddenly began fumbling about again, looking flustered, bothered by her own thoughts. "I'm hardly ever right. Why don't you go ask Gaius, or Morgana, or somebody closer to Arthur? They'll probably be able to give you a better idea."

"Gwen, there's nobody better," he told her, insisting, "If you can't help me, nobody can. So, I'd like to know what your hypothesis is, if you wouldn't mind, because I'm just about on the brink of losing my mind here, and I'll take anything you've got."

She paused briefly, eyeing him. She looked almost apologetic as she watched him, as though he were an injured animal and she the person to put it out of its misery. It had begun to feel rather like that, he thought. "The only thing Arthur doesn't have is something he can't buy. He's got enough money to last him his lifetime, Merlin. So what is it he wants?"

Merlin shook his head, not knowing the answer to her question, desperately hoping she would provide it to him.

"Love, Merlin," she told him, voice turning into a whisper, as though telling him a grave secret that nobody else should know, "He wants you to love him."

"You're right. Absolutely right," Merlin conceeded, then soon went on to add, "That is completely and utterly bonkers."

Gwen's soft face steeled, and she began to flush a shade of red. She shook her head at him, dismissing his existence almost entirely, and began to walk off, picking up her pace when Merlin tried to walk beside her.

"Whatever you say, Merlin," she said, "Just don't say I didn't try to tell you."

And with that, Merlin was left in the dust of an excessively exciteable Gwen. His friend, as she had proposed, thought Arthur was in love with him? What sort of an inane notion was that?

**

Gwen's words followed him, though he hated to acknowledge them, into his job. They stalked him as he tended to Arthur, told him she was right every time he watched the prince settle into bed, seeped into his dreams at night and made them all romances, the silly kind he actually rather enjoyed hearing about.

It quickly became unbearable. He loathed living in the waking world thinking about Arthur, only to go to sleep and have to listen to his subconscious wonder if Arthur was thinking about him, too. He felt like a girl, much to his dismay filling the prince's so-often-used insult of him. He quickly became obsessed, and soon wanted any way out of this hell; it was a dangerous thing, being willing to do anything to relieve himself of this burden, but it wa the truth.

He supposed that was why he broached the subject. Had he been in his right mind, he'd have dismissed Gwen's words immediately, called them bogus and had it done with, but now he stood outside of Arthur's chambers, readying himself to knock and alert the prince to his presence. Then, he had planned a grand speech, leading to the question itself. It terrified him, but it had to be done.

Just as he went to knock, however, the wooden door suddenly swung open, creaking loudly, and in the doorway stood Arthur, who looked as displeased as he always did. The prince eyed him, scanning him from head to toe, then eventually settled on two pretty little words.

"You're late," he said, and without waiting for a response from the other man ushered the warlock inside. Merlin, unable to stop himself from obeying Arthur apparently, went with this, heading inside of Arthur's chambers and glancing about his room. There was no doubt in his mind that he looked nervous, but again he reminded himself that he would feel better soon, having received a straight answer, whatever that may be.

Arthur shut the door, looking grumpy and sleepy. He cast his eyes back to Merlin, and looked incredulous as he did so. "Are you waiting for something, Merlin? Perhaps a nice little breakfast, or a hot drink to warm you up?"

This was hardly the 'good morning' Merlin had expected from a lover, but he took it anyway. There were more important things than Arthur's morning aggressiveness, and he figured he could deal with that much. He knew Arthur was referring to his lack of bustling about, trying to make up for lost time by sorting the prince's morning routine, laying everything out for him and then escorting him down to training which was due to begin within the next three quarters of an hour.

However, even still, Merlin did not move. He could not bring his feet to stop rudely denying his demands, for they seemed to be conspiring with his brain to force him to continue looking at Arthur. The prince too did not move, still looking frustrated at his servant's lack of usefulness that he somehow hadn't gotten used to yet.

Merlin knew there was the speech. He knew he had spent the entirety of last night drafting it, hiding it from Gaius' prying eyes, ignoring the suspicious and borderline suggestive looks the old man had been giving him, almost like he knew. Merlin knew there would be a great deal of wasted time on his hands if he turned back and continued to work, and he knew he simply could not do that.

"Arthur," he was certain this was how the speech began, but after he addressed the man the rest of the rehearsed conversation went out of the window. He panicked briefly, but regained himself enough to say one final thing, cutting straight to the chase of his speech. "Are you in love with me?"

Abrupt? Absolutely. Possibly going to get him fired from his job if he was wrong? Very plausible. Did it need to be said, even with all of its risks and problematic utterances? It was more important than anything.

Arthur stared at him for the longest time, and seemed to go through the five stages of grief as he did so. He raised his eyebrows, then let them fall again. He opened his mouth as though to speak, but quickly snapped it shut again, as though it were a mistake he had to rectify. Eventually, once he was done processing Merlin's question, he parted his lips and took on a bold stance, then spoke.

"Yes," he said plainly. The room went silent for a moment, one that seemed to last forever, and then Arthur piped up again, tilting his head to the side cockily and asking, "Is that alright?"

Merlin's face then cracked in half, his smile beaming and bright - possibly even brighter than Gwen's. Gwen, who had gotten this ball rolling in the first place, who had gotten these two idiots here, when otherwise they might have never made any sort of a move, not past gifts and shared confused looks, at least.

"You're a prat," Merlin told Arthur, and just when it looked like the offended prince might try to interject and say something that would throw him off of his high-vibes horse, he began striding quickly towards him.

It took next to no time for him to reach Arthur, and even less time for him to cup the prince's face and kiss him. Admittedly, it was a little too hard, a little too quick, and a little sloppy, but for the first kiss they'd ever shared, Merlin thought it was quite alright.

He pulled back rather promptly, leaving much, much more to be desired, but he just had to say one final thing to Arthur before they committed their entire futures together, giving up everything else they enjoyed to become one and kiss for likely all of eternity.

The prince looked somewhere between startled and lustful, and this made Merlin proud. He brushed the soft blond hairs that were sticking up on Arthur's head, surprised that he could perform such gentle, loving actions now without fearing for his life, or wondering if it'd earn him an evening in the stocks.

"Of course it's alright," he spoke softly, addressing Arthur as he had always (or, at least, most of the time) deserved to be. "It's always been alright."

**Author's Note:**

> hope this read okay! also hope you enjoyed haha, here's my second fic to pay homage to this beautiful ship. haven't been feeling the best lately, but I'd die for these two so here you go. lol
> 
> Let me know what you think! & feel free to leave some of your headcanons in the comments, I'll compile a few and get around to them :)


End file.
